


Derek the 'Drama King.'

by HiAjay



Series: With the Pack comes a Stiles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes from the man. Stiles pushed the sheets and comforter out of the way and slid off the bed. He fumbled as his bare feet meet the cold floor. Derek snorted quietly and worked his way down the step and towards Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek the 'Drama King.'

Stiles woke up.

 

That in general was never good. Stiles liked his sleep, so when he wakes up to a cold empty space next to him, he tends to have a small heart attack. Y’know the ones, the ones where you lean back on your chair and you think you’re going to fall. Yeah, one of those.

 

Stiles made a habit of staying over at Derek’s loft. After Derek left a few months ago with Cora, Stiles found himself spending more and more time in the empty loft.

 

So when Derek got back, it wouldn’t be so cold and empty. Stiles even had the rest of the pack come and scent the place every now and then. Stiles didn’t care what Derek was doing, Stiles didn’t care _who_ he was doing, Stiles didn’t care where he was, all Stiles ever needed to know was that Derek was okay and _alive_.

 

That’s when his phone beeped, lighting the dark loft up in artificial light. Stiles rubbed his eyes lazily and reached for his phone. He slid his finger over and stared at his screen. One voicemail, Stiles stared down at the time stamp on it.

 

_Midnight._

 

Stiles looked at the time now. _Two-forty._

 

“Who the hell needs to call me at Midnight?” Stiles groaned and sat up pulling and tugging the sheets as he moved. “Seriously, it’s bad enough I can’t really sleep since I- well Scott, Allison and I had to sacrifice ourselves.” Stiles started the voicemail played it on speaker.

 

“ _Stiles._ ” His heart almost stopped. “ _I’m coming home. Now._ ” Stiles eyes were wide and he thought for sure he was dreaming, his heart was beating erratically, almost like it was going to burst right out of his chest.

 

Derek was coming home. _Derek_ was _coming home._

 

That’s right, Stiles thought. The loft was their home, at least that’s what Derek said before he left. Derek and Stiles were a thing, everyone knew that, well expect Stiles and Derek themselves. It wasn’t until after the whole ordeal that Derek kissed Stiles behind closed doors. Literary.

 

Derek pulled Stiles into one of Deatons’ examining rooms and mooched up a very surprised, and a very grateful Stiles.

 

They were like best friends, but with all the great make-out sessions, and hanky-panky that doesn’t come with it. Stiles could feel his stomach drop and his heart was beyond settling down.

 

That’s when the sound of the loft’s large metal door opening peeled Stiles’ attention from his phone. Stiles started at the man standing in the door way.

 

Black combat boots, dark jeans that always seem too tight, A loose, worn-out white Henley, and a smug face. Derek dropped his bags at the entrance and looked Stiles right in the eyes. He wasn’t smiling he wasn’t scowling, he looked pleasantly blank.

 

Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes from the man. Stiles pushed the sheets and comforter out of the way and slid off the bed. He fumbled as his bare feet meet the cold floor. Derek snorted quietly and worked his way down the step and towards Stiles.

 

“You’re not going to say anything?” Derek asked. “You’re speechless for once?” Derek seemed very amused. Stiles couldn’t help the blush that worked its way from his neck to his cheeks.

 

“You’re such a huge drama king. You know that?”  Stiles tossed his phone on the bed, almost forgetting he had it at all. Derek shrugged and was now standing a few inches away from Stiles. Almost touching, but not quite.

 

Derek’s hands gravitated to Stiles arms, ghosting them at their length then cupping Stiles neck. Stiles shivered under Derek’s warm hands. Derek’s lips played at a smile, Stiles’ eyes gazed at Derek’s lips and eyes like he’d gone _forever_ without seeing them.

 

“Pay-back, she’s a bitch. Remember that.” Stiles said with a small hint of humor. Derek hummed and finally meet the lips his missed since before he left.


End file.
